The Gift
by anoneight8
Summary: With the Cybertronian war raging on and Autobot morale at its lowest, Optimus Prime makes a desperate decision that he hopes will make the difference. PreMovieverse. Father/Son oneshot inspired by lady tecuma's Sparks and Plasma.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This is a simple one-shot I wrote to flesh out part of an RP timeline. The original concept of Prime's paternity to a certain yellow bug in this fashion is inspired from ladytecuma's fanfic "Sparks and Plasma". If you like this idea, then definitely go read that as it's where it came from. And even if you don't like this…well just marvel at the fact that I've been made to post anything at all.

* * *

The caverns were treacherous, absent of all light and reaching down in a veined labyrinth as deep beneath Cybertron's surface as had ever been explored. His scanners filtered through the abyss with the deep pitched hum of his propulsion the only sound reverberating off the almost crystalline corridors as he steered down one fork then another in repeated changes of direction. There was no hesitation in his press forward. The map of this network of narrowed tunnels and larger caverns was embedded within his core processor, himself nearly the only being to know the exact path towards the great source of energy that was now just beginning to beckon him the nearer he came.

They had done everything within their power to bury it and cover its aura from those that sought only to taint its very nature for the shameless pursuit of their own gain. But even now truly hiding it was an impossible task, because the Allspark refused to be silenced. It called to them all, in a way that made his own essence ache in guilt for trapping it within this prison. He knew he had no right to bar it from the very world it had created, yet he hadn't known what else to do. The Allspark could not be used as a weapon of war, or a stepping stone to reach the status of god over all. And yet here he came today to ask it for something almost equally selfish.

The cube's soothing glow was the first real light he had seen in the several cycles it had taken to make the trip from the surface, as he at last entered into the hidden cave that contained it. He slowed, with a hiss of air pushing away from his chassis as his thrusters adjusted to bring him to a respectful stand still before the larger mass. The cube's energy field reached out to his own at once, mingling as if to verify his identity.

They all belonged to it, owed it, and he shuddered slightly despite himself at the contact. He had not felt its power so closely in a great many years now. He wondered how disobedient he might appear in its judgment, or if it even cared about his intentions at all. The object before him was both life and death for their race. It had begun them, and one day…soon he worried, it may end them. It was the primary reason for the many lifeless bodies lying far above, the crumpled cities, vanquished hopes, and the madness that they now stood so little chance against.

"_We are dying_," He spoke out listlessly through his neural link. The Allspark had no single mind, nothing that could answer back to him in any way that he might understand. But somehow he was still sure that it listened. It knew of the failures of its creations and the trite violence they imposed on one another all in the name of its possession.

"_Cybertron lies in ruin…so very many are gone. We can no longer see a future_." He could not have wanted for better soldiers or higher loyalty than that of the mechs that still stood behind him after so many years of fighting without end. But every being had their limit, even himself. Their planet was almost fully destroyed now and this was more than enough reason for many to give in. It was too easy to look out upon what their world had become and believe there was no longer a reason worth wrestling that ruin back from the claws of their former Lord High Protector.

But he also knew that as long as the cube did still lie in their hands, the planet _could _heal. Cybertron's current state did not necessarily have to be their breaking point. Even if he and his Autobots may never again see anything close to the golden age of Cybertron in their lifetimes, they could still fight towards it.

He firmly believed that each of his own inner circle were selfless enough to envision that their sacrifices could still mean something as long as it made a better tomorrow for the race itself. But now…now, even that consolation was not anything he could truly promise them. Because there was no tomorrow. There were no future Cybertronians, no new generations. There were no sparkmates to produce them, there were no femmes and there were no younglings.

If he could have only foreseen how merciless his brother would be, or known that it would be one of Megatron's actual _strategies _to remove as many bonded pairs as possible from the Autobot ranks, to target family units as a whole in order to obliterate the Autobot resolve and assumed production source of more followers to Prime's cause.

While Optimus had at first seen the wars as only civil strife, a single species split into political factions and fighting so senselessly, at some point Megatron had decided that they were no longer a single race. The Autobots were their own pathetic life form, and genocide was apparently his choice solution.

No one had been spared from those losses. His own mate had been ripped violently from him some time ago, and he knew he would never take another. For some time he had thought he could survive on Elita's memory alone…but now even that was not enough. There had to be hope, or they would all lie down and die within time. Maybe years from now, maybe sooner, but eventually it would happen. He saw it too plainly on the horizon. And if even he could see it…then surely his brother did as well.

And that was the desperation which brought him here today with only this sudden need in mind. There had to be a future. If there was only _one_ reason to keep fighting, he was sure that he could. He could at least continue in order to keep their plague from spreading to other worlds, do anything to make the weakest amends for the error he had made in not seeing his brother's ambition for what it truly was until the tide had already turned.

Still within his vehicular mode, one of his panels slid away to deposit a small cargo he had carried all the way down from the surface. Wrapped in torn material, the bundle lay still as he transformed with a swift rearrangement of his structure until he was standing tall before the Allspark's judgment.

He knew it may never work. It had never been done before, and he would be stepping well beyond his place to ask for it. Likely, he was no better than his own brother for doing this. Though if he was truly wrong in this, perhaps he would be killed as punishment and never have to see his own soldiers executed one by one as their last defenses fell. But that was such a cowardly thought. His resolve must truly be crumbling.

The tired hydraulics ground in protest as the towering mech lowered to one knee and then the other. The sight must have been something to behold as the wearied leader settled back, gently beginning to extricate the strange object from its wrappings with an almost reverence as he then brought it into his lap.

He would have told no one, but he hadn't the knowledge to craft the small body on his own. Only Alpha Trion now knew of the level of his desperation, having prepared this tiny casing in upmost secrecy for him over the last few months. Creating the body for a coming sparkling was still not yet a lost art surprisingly, though it no doubt soon would be if things did not change. But Prime tried not to think that deeply. It was not his intention to begin whole new generations with this action…he only wanted a single child for now. _One_ youngling to stir their spirits and remind them that more was still possible, more than death and stagnation and the pain that sickened each and every one of their torn sparks.

"_It is all I ask…only this._" He had never directly wanted for anything before. Not from the Allspark. Its power was not one to be demanded of, it only gave when it wished to, randomly and to the gratitude of Cybertronians at all times. At least this was the way it had once been. Before others had desired more…

It was blasphemous, trying to create life on his own without the aid of a mate's spark. But Optimus tried to let Elita-One's presence fill his mind regardless, thinking of her as he once had while his chest plates began to relax backward in slow response. He had never bonded again after her, and he only felt vulnerable and saddened now as he forced his chamber to disengage without any trusted partner to soothe the then exposed spark's anxious pulses.

For the little form still in his lap, he only had to press the hidden release to have its chest open with a reflexive slide. The lifeless cavity inside was discomforting in its darkness, nothing within its spark chamber as he gently opened that as well. But this bleak sight was something he prayed to soon change.

"_I offer as much of my own spark as needed._" There was nothing more he could do. It took life to create life. The cube on its own had created their planet and the first generations of Cybertron surely, but beyond that all new lives had been solely left to their discretion. Only mates now had the capacity to make new Cybertronians, each individual giving a piece of their own spark so that their lifeforce may come together and shape a newer one.

Though before the Allspark had been properly hidden away, it was true that some Decepticons had foolishly tried to access it in order to create soldiers without the aid of their own sparks…but the creatures that had resulted from that had only been mindless and violent. It was clear that for true life, you now had to give up part of your own. Prime could not know if even his spark with the power of the leadership matrix infused within it would be enough for such an overwhelming task however.

He was left waiting, yet remained attuned to the Allspark's energy field as he searched for any change within it. Each second of further silence, with no response save for the random shifting of the blue glow down through its shallow channels, became more and more unbearable while the cavern's cold, dead air continued to permeate his vulnerable spark. If he were denied would it be a sign that the Autobots were meant to fail? That the Allspark cared not if it were to be used as only a tool of destruction by Megatron?

Prime lowered his head, not shameless enough to plead any further. His optics dimmed, though now looking down again at the lifeless shape he was holding. Wasn't it all in their deeper instincts to want to see new life at some point? He had never had the chance with Elita…never even considered it really before she was already taken from him. There was just always too much else, always the war, always the Decepticons at their heels, never a moment's rest. Never a time to consider the foolishness of bringing new life into the hell they had made for themselves.

But now…that was exactly what he was so selfishly asking for. Because the Autobots _needed_ someone to protect. He needed a bond to fight for, if he could even dare to feel for anyone else again. He would never be able to take a mate only to lose them again. He was already too far removed to ever contemplate that risk again. But to care for a child…perhaps that could be possible. Because it wouldn't be his own. No, the youngling would belong to them all.

Was it really so selfish if regarded in that light? It would not be his sparkling. It would be theirs. Everyone. _Everyone's _child.

A sudden misfire of energy arced off the side of the cube nearest to him, bringing Prime's attention immediately back to that powerful force. His spark became reflexively fearful of damage in such close proximity to the stronger aura, but he willed it to remain uncovered and even edge outward from the relative safety of its casing as he awaited the final decision. He had decided to do this and would not allow himself any misgivings over the potential consequences.

The Allspark "spoke" again, energy crackling over its considerable surface as Prime's courage stilled his body to remain in what was possibly a direct line of fire. It seemed it had chosen to answer him, though there was still no way to know what would be done to him, or if he could possibly succeed in this far fetched request.

But he was left in no further suspense as the next energy bolt struck directly out, this time connecting fully to his chest. Battle hardened, he had expected an immediate offlining from such a perfectly aimed strike. And though the massive energy surge did instantly overwhelm many of his systems to knock them out through sheer force, he surprisingly felt no pain. The bolt likely would have been very loud as well, though his audio receivers only went awash with white noise. All he could do was see through static filled optics as everything flickered before going completely black.

And then he had felt nothing. Still fully conscious but with every sensory function offlined, Prime was left trapped for an indefinite time within silent, unfeeling blackness. It came to the point that he began to wonder if this _was_ death. How would one ever know what it really felt like until it occurred? There was nothing, just his consciousness unattached in an abyss.

* * *

_To be concluded in next chapter..._


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

It was so very quiet here, almost disturbing to someone so now unaccustomed to the nature of silence. Even deep within the Autobot bunkers and underground bases, the explosions from the surface would still be felt and heard however muffled. Cybertron itself almost seemed to shake persistently. The echoes of war were near as constant as was their drive to keep fighting. There could never be a silence like this, not anywhere else but here.

Though almost as soon as he had become aware of this soothing silence, his relief at what it stood for was gone again. Peace could also come in death, silence from the absence of life, and this was not what he had travelled so very far -even lying to his own soldiers- to find. His scanners picked up only the cavern's arched ceiling, optics staring blearily up at it before the aching circuits throughout his overtaxed form saw fit to heed his commands.

Optimus pushed himself up to sitting slowly, cautious with his actions even now as he grew further and further anxious over the thought of what he was _not_ hearing. He immediately noticed that his spark chamber and chest plates had reflexively sealed themselves sometime after he'd been forced into stasis-lock. It would have been a mildly comforting thought to know he had not been lying utterly vulnerable for the indefinite time his processors had been cut off, but thoughts about his own well being were still far from important considering the problems at hand.

With great trepidation already in his tragedy laden spark, Prime looked down to the near insignificant weight still lying across his lap where it had fallen. But the little form remained undisturbed even as he'd sat up again, unmoving and wholly unresponsive.

_Lifeless_.

The immediate sense of failure overwhelmed him like so many times before. It would never become any less painful no matter how many times he may have had to endure the sight of another body lying functionless before him. Another lost life, perhaps even made worse here by knowing it had never gotten the chance to live at all. But why? Had he not given enough? He had offered all he had, and his own body was now a sluggish mess because of it. He could feel plainly how many of his systems were now redirecting themselves due to short-circuits or outright failures in some of his less-vital workings.

But perhaps it was all only damage from daring to interact with any of the Allspark's limitless energy. Anyone else should have been lucky to still be aware at all after such a stunt. Yet Optimus was wholly focused beyond himself as his large fingertips touched across the tiny chest, then up to the face to pass near the darkened optics.

He could not even recall the last time he had been able to hold a sparkling. His lieutenants had always been so very proud whenever they first sired younglings. And before the war, when it was still safe enough to bring the little ones out into public, they would eagerly show them to their comrades.

Prime was always reluctant to touch the children himself, preferring a more distant appreciation as he feared their delicate natures wholly incompatible with his own powerful form. His attempts at discouraging having them offered up into his arms had always been half-hearted at best though, himself finding that new life fascinating and knowing it would honor the family should he show his equal interest as their leader.

Even before the war he had never openly considered becoming a parent himself though. Being responsible for an entire race had seemed challenge enough really. But he was sure Elita would have been a worthy mother. If peace had ever reigned again, maybe they would have tried…

But now? Now there was nothing, nothing but one last failed attempt to make any difference in the crippled morale of his people. The Autobot leader lowered his head, optics dimming as he raised the small body to himself, feeling utterly helpless for what was not the first time. The resolve to finally give in could only come when faced with a complete lack of options. For the Autobots there was always one more thing to try, one more battle, one more chance…but now even that was slipping away from him. The final chances were quickly disappearing.

His body seemed to react at his own accord, arms tightening gently until the other form was held to the warmth of his chest. Perhaps the move was only instinctive, even to one who had never been a parent. But there may also have been something too soft for his own still recovering sensors to have noticed, the smallest hint that went easily hidden until he felt his own weakened energy again growing restless.

Prime's optics focused again as he stared downward with no inkling as to the source of the strange pull upon his spark. He did not need to stare long however before there was another abrupt pulse, enough to startle him as he saw a light blue bolt, thin and almost imperceptible even to his advanced perceptions as it instantaneously transferred across from one body to the other. There was even a slight feedback as well. He _felt _something trying to reach out to him.

It was now so foreign to him to try and connect to another Cybertronian on this level. His spark was far too many years deprived of any real intimacy to know what he should do, especially when the other energy was so frighteningly miniscule. Optimus feared overwhelming it entirely even as he tried to keep it with him.

It was just barely there, flickering as he tried to contain his own rising hopes. It was a crippling mixture of emotions, himself teetering at the dividing point between jubilation and devastation. He could not let that small aura fade.

"_Please,_" He asked again, pride utterly forgotten as the tiny form remained motionless in the protective circle of his arms. Moving it in the slightest seemed so dangerous, but he could not restrain himself from at least cradling its head more fully with one wide palm.

The future lay literally within his hands, so fragile and wavering.

The stark line between life and death was one he'd thought he'd known all too well. But on this most basic level, watching the fragmented little bits of energy in the tiny body struggle to form their very _first_ pulse at all was so much more profound.

The fight for survival was the most common part of any Cybertonian's life in this day and age. But survival was for those who were already alive. It just meant to keep living rather than to begin to.

Surely this was the harder battle.

And for all Prime's strength, he could do nearly nothing to assist the little one in achieving this first crucial victory. Nothing but hold the sparkling close in some instinctive attempt to sync its energy with his own spark's aura. He couldn't tell it to be brave, or to have the hope to persevere on in order to instate itself within this world. He could not even explain to it why he was asking so much from someone so small.

Was their world even worth being born into any longer? Truly…he did believe so. Though Optimus was under no illusion that this new Autobot charge -should it survive- would have an easy existence. But he knew that they would do all in their power to protect and care for it. _He_ would do all in his power even if he could not truly be a parent to it.

No, he couldn't claim it as his own. No matter how much he might _want_ to as he realized its optics were beginning to get the slightest tinge of blue around their edges.

* * *

He could never describe to anyone what it had felt like in those next few moments to be the very first being the little one would ever see. To know it had acknowledged him as its creator when he could never admit that aloud.

As an infant, Bumblebee had been so very frail and it had taken days before most could allow themselves any real belief that the "abandoned" sparkling would survive in their substitute care.

But the years would come and go, and they would all find that the orphan could indeed flourish within a base full of foster creators. And Optimus would keep true to his original intentions, never being selfish with their time together. Though the little one might always favor running to him regardless whenever most needful. And Prime would take him in then, for perhaps a night or so to curl against his chest until the little bit of loneliness in Bumblebee had passed again.

Optimus' own loneliness had never abated of course. But he could always remember the first few hours he had spent with the sparkling alone beside the Allspark. That day he had actually gotten to act as Bumblebee's sole creator. When he'd held him and fed him his first small tastes of energon before soothing him into recharge.

It would be so easy to feel pain at remembering how he'd given that bond away, and how Bumblebee would likely never even realize what a sacrifice that had been for him. But seeing the others take such equal pride in the youngling, raising him collectively into the brave soldier he became, Optimus really couldn't regret it.

Bumblebee didn't have the knowledge of being loved by a true creator. He didn't need it. His family was everyone. And to them he had been their sparkling when fate had allowed them none of their own.

The Autobots gave so much credit to Prime for a myriad of victories and accomplishments that ultimately meant so very little in the end. He doubted few, if any at all would ever even realize what his true greatest gift to them had been.

-**_End_**


End file.
